


Trial by Ordeal

by PumpkinDoodles



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Agatha Christie inspired, Coulson and Rumlow are our intrepid investigators, F/M, M/M, no powers au, the Avengers are adopted siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:34:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22687048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinDoodles/pseuds/PumpkinDoodles
Summary: Darcy Lewis is Tony Stark’s secret daughter. Tony Stark is a billionaire, a philanthropist, a playboy, the only biological child of Howard and Maria Stark, and definitely not father of the year material.Tony is also currently awaiting trial for killing his mother.Which means that Darcy has to tell Howard Stark who she is--and go to the elaborate wedding of Howard and Pepper Potts--if she wants to restore the secret allowance that keeps she and Jane’s research project afloat in New Mexico. Darcy doesn’t think Tony actually murdered his mother, but the list of other possible suspects is unsettling: Was it one of Tony’s adopted siblings--Natasha, Steve, Bucky, Bruce, and Clint? The executive assistant who is preparing to marry Howard? Howard himself? Or someone else?When a witness comes forward to definitively alibi Tony and two police detectives arrive on the doorstep, the tension in the household only increases.
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Brock Rumlow, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 42
Kudos: 115





	1. A Family Event

**Author's Note:**

> *I own nothing! 
> 
> For Anonymous, who requested a Taserbones fic where Tony is Darcy's father. I apologize in advance for this, lol. I read some “Knives Out” fics recently and watched part one of the new “Ordeal by Innocence” series on Amazon because I love Agatha Christie....and here we are. The opening premise is inspired by Christie's Ordeal by Innocence.

_"Trial by ordeal was an ancient judicial practice by which the guilt or innocence of the accused was determined by subjecting them to a painful, or at least an unpleasant, usually dangerous experience. The test was one of life or death, and the proof of innocence was survival." - Wikipedia_

* * *

**_Prominent Adoption Advocate Murdered_ **

_Albany, NY---Maria Stark, wife of billionaire Howard Stark, was found murdered in her home in upstate New York on Monday evening. Mrs. Stark was the mother of the high-profile inventor and Stark heir, Tony, but Mr. and Mrs. Stark were equally well-known for their family of adopted children from disadvantaged backgrounds, including two decorated veterans, the Medal of Honor recipient Steven Rogers-Stark and Silver Star recipient James Barnes-Stark..._

  
  


* * *

“Was it an accident?” Howard said, voice quiet. He looked haggard. He stared at his son through the jail’s glass window. Tony was pale and drawn.

“No.” Tony swallowed. “I was drunk, but I swear to you, she was alive when I left. There was a car, Dad. I hitched a ride. The driver was a man in his thirties--”

“Name?”

“I didn't ask his name, I was drunk,” Tony said. “He was a black guy, about thirty five--” Howard raked a hand over his face and swore vividly. Tony flinched in surprise when Howard’s hand struck the partition.

“Why can’t you admit it, Tony?” Howard yelled through the glass. “Admit you killed your mother?” 

“Dad, I never--”

“Don’t lie to me, Tony,” Howard said lethally, “not about this. Not about bashing Maria’s head in.”

“I wouldn't--”

“Her one biological child,” Howard said sharply. “Her only blood child!”

* * *

**_Potts-Stark Engagement_ **

_Howard Stark announces his engagement to Miss Virginia Potts. Miss Potts, daughter of William and Maureen Potts, is a graduate of Wellesley College and longtime executive with Stark Industries. Mr. Stark is the CEO of Stark Industries and widower of the late Maria Stark, née Carbonell, mother and philanthropist. Mr. Stark brings into the marriage his adult children, Tony, Steven, James, Natalia, Bruce, and Clinton. This will be the bride’s first marriage._

* * *

Darcy picked up the phone and hung it up again. “I can’t,” she told Jane. “I can't call Howard Stark and tell him that I’m his secret, illegitimate granddaughter.” 

“He should listen to you,” Jane said. “You have Tony’s letters, the bank transfers from Tony’s accounts, Tony will--”

“All the paperwork from my father, the alleged murderer,” Darcy said. “Who I last met in person when he drunk-crashed my high school graduation under an alias and who now refuses to answer my letters or see me.”

“It’s not like we don't know why,” Jane said. “What kind of person marries the woman that his son was in love with after his wife dies?”

“Spite,” Darcy guessed. She had followed the case closely through the media. Everyone knew Howard didn't believe Tony’s protestations of innocence; Tony had sunk into a deep depression while awaiting trial and ceased responding to Darcy’s letters or attempts to call. She could guess the reasons: Howard had funded lawyers for the defense, but was publicly making it clear that he didn't believe his son. Marrying the woman Tony had pined over seemed like twisting the knife, however. Darcy sighed. Tony had warned her that her grandfather wasn’t nice. Told her to keep her distance from Howard, even if he loved his mother. Loved his mother, she thought with a twist in her gut. She knew--even if she barely knew Tony--that he was innocent. Or there was a mistake somewhere. There had to be a mistake. People were wrongfully arrested and tried all the time. Not rich white guys, obviously, but...it was unfathomable that Tony could kill his favorite parent. 

“If you keep chickening out,” Jane said softly. “The semester is almost over--”

“I know, I know, without Tony’s money, Culver will kick me out,” Darcy said. “I’m calling, I’m calling.” Tony had once given her his parents’ private number, but cautioned her it was only for emergencies. This seemed like an emergency. She calculated the time difference between New Mexico and dialed again.

“Yeah?” a clipped male voice said.

“How--Howard Stark?” Darcy stuttered.

“Yeah, who’s this?”

“I’m--this is complicated--” Darcy began.

“Well, time is money, sweetheart,” the voice said, tone arrogant and dismissive. “So, let’s get at it--”

“I’m Tony’s daughter. Your granddaughter,” Darcy got out. “My name is Darcy Lewis.” Howard Stark’s _fuck_ was distinctly audible. There were follow-up questions, of course. Unpleasant ones. Pointed ones. “We’ve been through the ringer with the media, so why should I trust you?” Howard told her, bluntly and painfully, before he hung up. Darcy put the phone down, after listening to the beep of the dial tone for a moment.

“He hung up on you?” Jane said, looking stunned. Darcy shrugged.

“Not entirely,” she said. “First, he threatened to sue me if I was with _Page Six_ or the _National Enquirer.”_

“What do we do now?” Jane said. They were depending on Darcy’s tuition and allowance money from Tony to fund Jane’s research into astrophysical phenomenon in the New Mexico desert. Not that it was a ton of allowance, but they’d taken it for granted in their budgeting.

“We wait,” Darcy said, faking confidence. “And I’ll make coffee.” 

“We’ll find a way to make it work, even if he doesn’t come through,” Jane added, “I can apply for more grants.”

“Sure we will,” Darcy said. “We can do this all by ourselves. We’re accomplished, modern women.” She refrained from mentioning that Jane’s experimental research had been scoffed at and the grant calendar was a nightmare.

They waited an entire day.

Then the lawyers Tony had hired to set up Darcy’s secret trust funds--now frozen with his pre-trial incarceration by someone at SI called Obidiah Stane--must’ve confirmed her identity and the positive DNA test. Darcy’s phone rang as she was shaking their ink cartridge to get one more use of out of it. “Joe’s Morgue! You stab ‘em, we slab ‘em!” she said jokingly. She thought it might be Erik Selvig, on a supply run in Sante Fe. 

“Darcy?” Howard said. This time his voice was slightly less arrogant. “This is Howard. Howard Stark. Your grandfather.”

“Oh,” she said. “Hi. Sorry. That was a joke.”

“Obviously, you got Tony’s sense of humor,” he said. There was a heaviness to his voice. “So,” he said. “You knew about me?”

“Yes,” Darcy said. 

“But I didn’t know about you,” he said. His voice was bitter. “My son kept my only grandchild from me.”

“I thought Clint had children?” Darcy said. Tony was breezy about his younger siblings during the handful of times they’d been together, but Darcy knew some details about each of them: Steve and Bucky were unrelated, but inseparable. They had been adopted from New York as teens after being in the system together and joined the military together, too. Bruce suffered from a rare condition that had taken both his parents; Maria had adopted him while Stark Industries developed a drug to slow the disease. Nat was originally from Russia, remarkably beautiful, and had once aspired to be a ballerina. Clint was the funny one and had been discovered by CPS working illegally at a carnival, of all things. Tony had wisecracked that he was “the child labor carny.” He had nicknames for all of them. Bruce was “Anger Management” for his explosions of temper. Nat was “the Bolshie Ballerina,” Steve was “the Golden Child,” and Bucky--injured during his service in the military--was “the One Armed Man.” Tony had always been so charming, despite his problems and failings. That hurt more now.

“Clint?” Howard said, then laughed. “Yeah, yeah. He has two kids. Third on the way. Real family man.” There was an edge of sarcasm in Howard’s voice.

“Your grandchildren,” Darcy reminded him.

“You sound like Pepper,” Howard said. “She’s always reminding me of my familial obligations. Speaking of, I’d like you to come to the wedding. Hell, you can be in the wedding, if you feel like it. Stand next to Natasha. We’re under seige from wedding planners and florists--”

“The wedding?” Darcy said, feeling like her stomach had dropped into her knees. 

“You come to the wedding, I’ll contemplate raising your allowance,” Howard said. Darcy heard him adjust the telephone. “I was disappointed when I heard you were majoring in a soft science, but this project of Foster’s sounds interesting, maybe she’d like to come on board at Stark--”

“You looked into Jane’s research?” Darcy said. “Already?”

“Oh, I’m not that quick. Stane did a full background on you when the trusts were set up,” Howard said. “I’m a little upset with him for collaborating with Tony on hiding you, but those two are thick as thieves--” There was a pause. “Or were thick as thieves.” Howard’s voice was a blend of bitterness and sadness. Darcy didn’t know what to say. He cleared his throat. “So,” he bargained, “fly up here tomorrow, we’ll get those trusts restarted, and who knows what’ll happen from there?”

“Okay,” Darcy said slowly.

“You know, most people would jump at the opportunity to be an heiress,” he told her. “But Tony found out about you when you were, uh--”

“Twelve,” Darcy said.

“Twelve. Right,” he said. “And aside from some in-state college money and this internship project, you’ve never hit my son up for money?” Howard said. “Why’s that? You could be skiing in Switzerland with Paris Hilton.” Darcy snorted.

“Well, Tony used to joke that I was the Honest Stark,” she said, “and I’ve been a Democrat and a feminist since I was eleven.”

“Shit,” Howard said. “I knew there had to be a fly in the ointment somewhere.”

“Uh-huh,” Darcy said.

“Just tell me you didn’t vote for Hillary,” he said jokingly.

“Sorry, Grandpa,” Darcy said. “I disappoint again.” 

“I’m not worried. We’ll make a Stark of you yet,” Howard said, before giving her specifics for her flight to New York. They hung up and Darcy waited for Jane to return from taking night time readings. She worked. She ate a Pop Tart to calm her nerves. Her head jerked up when she heard the door to the old dealership open, long after midnight. 

“What’s wrong?” Jane said, seeing her expression.

“We’ve got the money,” Darcy said.

“We’ve got the money?” Jane repeated, frowning in confusion.

“There are conditions,” Darcy said. “It was very subtly done, but there were conditions. He wants me to go to the wedding. His wedding. To the woman that my dad has been quietly in love with for almost as long as I’ve known him.”

“Shit,” Jane said. 

“Pretty much. Also, I leave tomorrow, so I did your laundry and prepped your snacks,” Darcy said.

“I’m not entirely helpless, I have a PhD!” Jane said.

“I’ll be gone for two weeks,” Darcy said.

“Oh God.” 

“Exactly,” Darcy said. Erik drove her to the airport in the morning while Jane slept. A small private plane was waiting. “I’ll be back with the cash,” Darcy joked. She smiled at him.

“Be careful,” he said seriously.

“Why?” 

“Because the rich are different from you and me,” he said. 

“You know, Jane wouldn’t even understand that reference,” she told him.

“No, this is why I tell that joke to you,” Erik said. He spoke again, stopping her as she reached for the door handle of the van. “But Darcy--from everything you’ve told me, this is not the best of families--”

“Yeah, I know,” Darcy said. “Even Tony told me to stay away from them. But this is just a wedding.”

In the New Mexico dawn, it seemed impossible that anything really bad could happen.


	2. Away For A Long Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing! For the purposes of storytelling, I'm setting this circa Iron Man I/Thor. Darcy is in her early twenties, Steve, Bucky, and Nat are all late twenties, Clint, Rhodey, and Pepper are thirty-fiveish, Tony's in his early forties, and Howard is in his 70s. I think that all makes sense?

**Stark Heir Denied Bail**

_New York, NY--Tony Stark, heir to the Stark Industries fortune, has been denied bail in the murder of his mother, Maria Stark..._

* * *

Darcy’s plane landed at Watertown Airport in upstate New York. “There’ll be a helicopter waiting,” the pilot told her. 

“To go where?” Darcy said, tugging on her little rolling suitcase. She wasn’t exactly sure where she was going. Howard had said “the lake house,” and Darcy hadn’t had the presence of mind to ask where, exactly, the house was.

“I don’t know,” the pilot confessed. “This isn’t my route, I just happened to be in Albuquerque when you needed a pilot. Friend of friend flies the Starks around regularly. I’m sorry, ma’am.”

“Oh,” Darcy said. “Sorry.”

“But they sent a message that your pilot should be here,” he said, helping her deplane. Except the second pilot wasn’t there. Her pilot was running a few minutes late, an airport employee told them. Darcy felt slightly buffeted about, between her own sleep-deprived anxiety and the weird, careful way everyone was treating her. They kept calling her “Miss Stark” and she kept apologizing and saying her name was Miss Lewis. It was all very strange. She finally got to sit on a little bench outside the airport and listen to music. She’d been listening to Natalia Lafouracade’s _Musas_ album lately. She found it soothing. Usually. It was less effective when a large, dark helicopter landed on the lawn of the airport in front of you, mere feet from the parking lot. Darcy looked at the employee who’d come outside.

“They can just land here?” she yelled over the sound of the blades. “Not on the tarmac?” The man said something back, but Darcy missed it. Abruptly, the helicopter went silent and a man disembarked from the pilot’s seat. He had a baseball cap pulled low over his forehead, so it was hard to see his face. But his plaid shirt and jeans looked comfortably worn in and his boots were battered. He walked towards her decisively. He looked like a normal, she thought, sighing in relief. The kind of guy she’d see around Puente Antiguo, almost. Or at a wings place, watching a basketball game. Average height, tanned from being outdoors, solidly reassuring. Probably a hired pilot for this area. He got within a few feet of her and said her name.

“Darcy Lewis?” he said.

“Yes,” she said, standing up. “That’s me, I’m Darcy.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I got that. You look like him.”

“Who?” Darcy said. His smile was sardonic. 

“Tony,” he said.

“Oh,” Darcy said. “Yeah. I look like my mom, too, it’s kind of a fifty-fifty split--you don’t need to take that,” she said, as he grasped her suitcase. She was profoundly weirded out by how much everyone seemed to be doing things for her.

“C’mon, Howard gets cranky when people are late for lunch,” he said, turning. She hurried to follow him. He walked fast.

“Where are we going?” she said. “He--Howard--just said lake house,” she asked.

“It’s a castle on an island,” he said.

“You’re kidding,” Darcy said. “An actual castle?”

“I’m not shitting you,” he said wryly, helping her climb into the helicopter. “I think it’s kind of creepy.”

“Rich people are so weird,” Darcy said, laughing. “You’re probably the last normal person I’ll talk to for two weeks.”

“Oh, yeah?” he said, mouth turning up. “That’s good. I’m your uncle Clint, by the way.”

“W-what?” Darcy said, as stunned as if he’d smacked her.

“Did Tony mention me? He probably mentioned the carnival, right?” Clint said, helping her with the harness and her sunglasses and noise guards. He got in the pilot’s seat. The blades started with a whir. Darcy stared at him for a moment. “I used to work for a traveling carnival before the weirdos got me,” he yelled. “The carnival was more normal, you’re not wrong.”

“Well, yeah, he mentioned it, but it was in context,” Darcy yelled back.

“In context?” Clint said.

“I did three-card tarot readings for a dog rescue fundraiser at Culver,” she said, embarrassed. “He also mentioned your kids. Lila, Cooper, and in-utero Natasha,” she said, hesitating on the last name. That was right, wasn’t it? The baby’s name. Clint’s face lit up a little and his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

“Actually, it’s going to be in-utero Nathaniel,” he said. “Tasha’s a tiny bit upset about that.”

“Oh,” Darcy said. “Still, that’s great. A baby.”

“I kinda like ‘em,” he said, with mock casualness. Tony had mentioned he was a devoted father. “They stayed in Iowa. The kids are in school.” 

“You live in Iowa now?” she said.

“It’s where I’m from. We have a farm. It’s, uh, organic.” He sighed. “I’m not sad that they’re missing this wedding.”

“Yeah,” Darcy said. “I still can’t believe it--I’ve never met Pepper in person, but, uh, well---”

“It’s fucked up,” Clint said bluntly, lifting the helicopter off the ground. Darcy’s heart lurched as they rose in the sky. “I don’t know what she’s doing. God knows what the fuck Howard is thinking.” His expression darkened. “You took mine, so I’ll take yours?” he added. Shit, Darcy thought, realizing it made a weird, vindictive kind of sense. But what was Pepper’s motive? 

“How does everyone else feel?” Darcy said, almost afraid to ask.

“Some people have dumb ideas,” Clint said, huffing. “About Tony being reckless or careless enough to kill somebody. He wasn’t careless about Maria.”

“You don’t think he killed Maria?” Darcy said, unable to muffle the note of hope in her voice.

“Nope,” Clint said. “Neither does Tasha. Don’t listen to anybody else, that’s my advice.” 

“Okay,” Darcy said. She didn’t know what it was that she’d said, but Clint seemed to treat her gently after that. He explained that the part of New York they were in was called the Thousand Islands. Darcy peered out the window. The wide expanse of the Saint Lawrence--between Canada and New York--shimmered a sapphire blue. Emerald green islands dotted the surface. They were heavily forested, but you could see mansions in the tree breaks. “They’re all islands?”

“Yeah. That’s why nobody believes Tony,” Clint said, “because they don’t think he could’ve navigated one of the small boats to the mainland and then hitched a ride with somebody. But Tony’s been drinking on boats since middle school. He could do it,” he said. His voice was grim. “I believe him.”

“Yeah,” Darcy said. “Did he tell you about me?”

“Nope,” Clint said. He smiled. “Tasha knew, though. She doesn’t miss much.”

“Oh,” Darcy said. The conversation seemed so at odds with the beauty of the landscape. She thought of something. “Thousand Islands like the salad dressing?” she said, trying to change the subject. The silence felt heavy. Clint chuckled.

“You are a normal,” he said. “Howard’s going to be so disappointed.” He stressed the last two words. His impression of Howard was good.

“Really?” Darcy said.

“You get used to it,” he said. “Here we are.” He pointed. “That’s the house.” 

“Holy shit,” Darcy said. A massive, turreted stone castle rose in the center of the green oval.

“It’s always fun to land on the lawn,” Clint said. “I’ve only missed once. Real big splash.” At Darcy’s horrified expression, he started to laugh.

* * *

**Inside a Prominent Executive’s Idyllic Summer Island Wedding**

_townandcountrymag.com > summer weddings _

_The upcoming wedding of Howard Stark and Pepper Potts will take place at the Stark family’s vacation home, Dunstan Castle, on Eden Island in the Saint Lawrence River. The picturesque Castle, built in in 1904, is a historic landmark constructed of native upstate stone. Six stories high, it has over one hundred rooms, decorated in Gilded Age furnishings. “I couldn’t imagine getting married anywhere else,” Pepper Potts tells the magazine. “This is probably the most romantic location in the entire Thousand Islands.” She chose an elegant, unfussy Monique Lhuilier gown featuring a floral lace motif which echoed the couple’s wedding invitations. Guests at the couple’s reception will enjoy a lobster bake under the stars following the afternoon ceremony._

* * *

There was a woman standing on the porch, Darcy realized, when she stumbled out of the helicopter. The most beautiful woman that Darcy had ever seen: her wavy red hair surrounded a perfect face and she had a soft, feminine figure. “Wow,” Darcy said to Clint. “Is that Pepper?”

“No,” he said, laughing. “That’s your aunt Natasha. Tasha, get over here!” he yelled. “Meet Darcy!”

“When someone says _your aunt_ , you don’t really imagine that,” Darcy said, as the redhead crossed the lawn. She moved gracefully. The wind from the water made her scarf flutter over her shoulders.

“Yeah,” Clint said. He made a face. His nose crinkled.

“What?” Darcy said.

“Everybody in this family falls in love with Tasha sometime, it’s her curse,” he said, as she got to them. He’d pitched his voice for her to hear.

“Barton,” Natasha scolded. Darcy was startled by the huskiness of her voice. “Shut up,” she said to him, rolling her eyes, sounding for all the world like a jaded little sister. Then she looked at Darcy and her expression changed. Those green eyes actually went wide, before she smoothed over her surprise. “Hi,” she said. There was something almost shy about it. She tilted her head.

“I’m Darcy,” Darcy said. Intelligently. Clint snickered at their awkward handshake and Darcy shot him a look. Natasha didn’t seem to notice--or maybe she didn’t care.

“You have his eyes,” she said, looking directly at Darcy. “The shape, I mean, not the color. You look so much like him when he was young,” Natasha said. “Exactly like I remember Tony the first time I saw him. The day I was adopted.”

“Oh,” Darcy said. She had no idea when that was. Or even what Tony had looked like young.

“You look so much like him,” Clint mimicked his sister.

“Look at her cheekbones and her jaw,” Natasha said, as they walked into the house. She kept studying Darcy. 

“Tasha, stop freaking her out--” he said. Natasha stopped Clint as they went up the steps to the porch. 

“Stane is here,” she said. “And Bucky and Steve will be here any minute.”

“Wonderful,” Clint said. He looked at Darcy. “Prepare yourself for fireworks--or bullshit.”

A silver-haired, elderly man with a mustache emerged into the long, elegant hallway as they entered. He was followed by a second, heavier-looking man. “We’re going to take a hit in the African markets if we can’t move those ARs--” the first man said and Darcy realized it was Howard. Her first actual glimpse of her grandfather. Howard was wearing a full suit in his vacation home.

“We’ll figure something out with the Angolans,” the second man said. He was bald, but bearded, giving him an ominous look. The moment she saw him, Darcy thought _creepy._

“What about those new rockets the Nigerians were interested in? Do a markup? Rake in some additional profits for this quarter?” Howard said, putting a cigar in his mouth. 

“It’s a possibility,” the other man said. Just then, he looked forward. “Clinton,” he said. “And Natasha, never lovelier,” he said. He came over and hugged Natasha and then Clint. Darcy noticed that the cigar in his hand was slightly compressed. 

“Hello, Obie,” both Nat and Clint said at once. There was something stiff in the greeting. Clint looked uncomfortable and Natasha’s voice had gone flat and expressionless. 

“And if I’m not mistaken, this is my granddaughter,” Howard said, looking at Darcy. “The one you hid from me, Obie.” There was an edge of resentment in his tone. “Darcy, this is Obadiah Stane, Chief Financial Officer at Stark.”

“Darcy Lewis,” Obadiah Stane said, rolling her name. He didn’t hug her, thank God.

“That’s my name,” Darcy said, then felt supremely awkward. This was like being judged at Westminister. Clint snickered and she thought Nat’s mouth curled for a brief flash. “It’s nice to meet you,” she added. She didn’t want to piss off Howard, not this quickly. But Howard was staring at Stane. Stane seemed to read something in Howard’s expression.

“I only did it because Tony wanted her to have a normal life, Howie, you know that,” Stane said. Howard shifted his shoulders and looked at the other man for a long moment. Then something seemed to ease between them. Howard took the cigar out of his mouth and gestured dismissively.

“A normal life is better than being a Stark? Well, Tony always had delusions of normalcy,” Howard said. He tilted his head at Darcy. “She’s a political science major working with an astrophysicist in New Mexico. Her mother’s a nurse,” Howard added, though both of them knew that already, Darcy realized. What was the point of the show?

“Mmm-hmmm. Doesn’t she look like Tony?” Stane said. He raked his eyes over Darcy and she repressed a shudder.

“She does,” Howard said, talking as if Darcy wasn’t there. He moved over and put his hands on her shoulders. “Just like Tony.” He gazed at Darcy. She felt like a deer in headlights. “Be smarter than your father,” he declared, then dropped his hands. “And more responsible. You’ll never need to worry about anything and you can research all the little projects in New Mexico you like.”

“Okay,” Darcy said, feeling her jaw clench slightly. Remember the allowance, she told herself. Tony had never belittled her work. Ever. Howard sighed. 

“Obie,” he said, half-turning. “Should we call the German office?” 

“Yes, I think so,” Stane said. He looked at Clint. “How’s the farm, son?”

“Fine,” Clint said.

“He tells me organics are the wave of the future, but I’m waiting on the profit margins,” Howard said. “Natasha makes more money with her, uh, endeavors.” Howard’s voice was snarky. Clint had told Darcy that she was an artist during their flight.

“But nobody can eat performance art,” Stane said, clapping Clint on the shoulder. “You just remind Howie of that.” The older men walked away chuckling. Darcy heard them step outside.

“Well,” Darcy said, looking at Clint and Natasha. “That was a homecoming.”

“I fucking hate the way they treat me like a child,” Clint said, as the three of them went upstairs to find where Darcy was sleeping. “I’ve been married fifteen years.”

“Let it go,” Natasha said coolly. “He does it more when he knows it bothers you. They both do.”

“I have a successful farm,” Clint complained.

“Our father gave him startup money,” Natasha told Darcy. 

“Begrudgingly, because I ran off at nineteen and married a real woman,” Clint added. Natasha smirked and opened a door off the second floor staircase. 

“Here you are,” Natasha said. It looked like a fancy hotel suite, Darcy realized. Everything was decorated in Louis the fourteenth style furniture. The bed had a canopy made of silk. She wondered if the mattress felt like sleeping on the Queen. Clint was still focused on Howard and Obie’s dismissive attitude.

“Which I paid him back--mostly. The tractor is only thing I owe him money on, but Lila needed a back brace,” Clint said, still carrying Darcy’s suitcase. “She’s got scoliosis.”

“Yeah,” Darcy said, sympathetically. “Does she hate the brace?” 

“She loathes it. But she’s taking up archery for her posture,” Clint said. “She’s a great shot.”

“Archery helps your back?” Darcy said. 

“Oh yeah,” Clint said. 

“Clint was an archer in high school,” Natasha said, taking the suitcase. She started unpacking Darcy’s clothes to hang them in an armoire.

“Oh, I can do that,” Darcy said, slightly embarrassed by her t-shirts and leggings. They probably had dog hair on them. She petted dogs whenever she saw them. And Natasha looked like someone who cared about clothes.

“Let me have my curiosity,” Natasha said.

“Tasha’s very nosy,” Clint said. “She’s also going to set you up with a bunch of people, be prepared.”

“What?” Darcy said.

“She’s a natural yenta,” Clint said. Natasha laughed.

“Nobody but you calls me that,” she said. Darcy could swear her voice was almost wistful. To distract Clint--Natasha was clearly going to unpack her undies--Darcy asked about Lila’s archery again. He showed her videos of them practicing on his phone.

“That looks fun,” Darcy said honestly.

“Archery’s the one private school rich boy thing I was good at,” Clint said. “So Howard put my trophies in the house.” Darcy realized that Howard would play these games with her, too. She sighed. Natasha seemed to read her mind.

“Whenever Howard gives you money, you pay him back tenfold,” Natasha said, hanging up a t-shirt Darcy had cut the neck out of. It was for Culver’s political science student organization. Darcy had organized a guest speaker to talk about sanctuary cities and immigration. 

“He’s going to make jokes about me and Jane eventually, isn’t he?” she asked. Clint nodded, pulling a face. “Great,” Darcy said. “I hope she’s right about her newest theorem.”

“I recommend moving to another state,” Clint said. “Possibly to an undisclosed location.” At his chagrined, wry face, Darcy started to laugh.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Darcy said. 

“There are observatories in Hawaii,” Natasha said, leaning against the dresser.

“I like you,” Darcy said. “I like how you think, Aunt Tasha.” Clint nodded again.

“She’s one of us, Tasha. She thought I was a normal pilot and called rich people weird,” he told his sister.

“You are a normal pilot,” Darcy said. “And a farmer.” That made Natasha laugh. “What?” Darcy said, grinning. “Farming’s respectable.”

“Damn straight,” Clint said. Natasha rolled her eyes.

“Your tractor is paid for in arms money,” Natasha said.

“Don’t ruin it for me. I love that tractor,” Clint said. 

“It’s a blood tractor,” Natasha said. He scoffed. Darcy excused herself to find the bathroom, but stopped to listen at the door. Would they change when she was out of the room, she wondered? But they merely playfully razzed one another about tractors and art. She fixed her hair and refreshed her makeup, then emerged again.

“Are you hungry?” Natasha asked. “He should have offered you food, but he has no manners.”

“Shit. C’mon, Darce,” Clint said as they left the bedroom, “we’ll find you some food in this mausoleum.” 

“Darce?” Darcy said, making a face.

“He likes terrible nicknames,” Natasha said.

“Don’t be mean like that Tasha,” Clint said, stressing the nickname. “It could be worse. You could be Nat.”

“Oh God,” Natasha said.

“Nat,” Clint repeated, “I like it.” 

“Where’s the kitchen?” Darcy asked. 

“Back of the house,” Clint said, as they went down the stairs. ‘“Just follow Nat.” 

“I’m going to bribe Lila to shoot you and pretend it was an accident,” she told her brother. They were headed there when someone walked out of Howard’s office. Clint and Natasha fell silent and the woman froze.

“Oh,” the woman said. “I was looking for Howard.” She was a tall, elegantly dressed strawberry blonde. Then her eyes fell on Darcy. “Darcy?” she said, looking shocked. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh--” Darcy began.

“I invited her to our wedding,” a voice said, from behind them. Darcy turned. Howard. He’d come in through the door at the end of the hallway. “Why shouldn’t my granddaughter attend our wedding, Pepper?” he said. There was something cool about his voice. 

“I think that’s wonderful,” Pepper said. She seemed to be lying, Darcy thought. “Wonderful news,” she repeated.

“Why don’t we make her a bridesmaid?” Howard said. His voice was casual.

“Great,” Pepper said. “I’m sure we can find a dress in the same color as Natasha’s. You can come with us after lunch?” 

“Sure,” Darcy said. “It’s nice to meet you,” she added. She and Pepper had spoken on the phone.

“Yes,” Pepper said. Her expression changed for a moment and Darcy actually thought she could be upset. Then she seemed to pull in all her emotions. “Howard,” she said. “Can I possibly discuss these accounting figures with you alone?” 

“Of course,” Howard said dryly. “Everyone else into the dining room. Steve called. He and James will be here soon. And you know how Obie hates waiting on lunch.” Darcy caught Nat and Clint exchanging a glance.

* * *

**Obadiah Stane Takes Over R &D Operations At Stark Industries**

_New York, NY--With Tony Stark awaiting trial, Obadiah Stane has been handed day-to-day operations for Stark Industries, amid faltering stock prices. A spokesman for the company announced that Stane would be serving as an interim director for research and development at the multibillion dollar company..._

  
  
  


* * *

Their lunch conversation was stilted. Darcy was uncomfortable being served by a staff and the people around the table seemed equally tense--for different reasons: Howard was visibly angry and taking it out on the asparagus, Obadiah Stane’s eyes seemed too knowing, Natasha had gone silent and still, and Clint couldn’t seem to hide his offense every time someone said the word wedding. Worse, Howard seemed to be relishing the discomfort. Pepper had asked Darcy a question about her classes and Darcy could literally feel Stane watching her with crafty eyes. “I’m minoring in Middle Eastern studies,” she told Pepper, trying to ignore the man.

“That’s something Tony never could get his head around, the Middle East,” Stane said suddenly. “Remember that time he was kidnapped?” Pepper’s head jerked up and then she smiled coldly.

“Tony’s an engineer, not a politician,” she said.

“It was the only thing he was ever really outstanding at, besides consuming large quantities of my liquor cabinet,” Howard told Darcy, stabbing a slice of ham with his fork. “He could build anything. He wanted Stark to diversify away from arms, do work in protective weapons suits, of all the goddamn things." 

“Weapons suits?” Darcy said, picturing James Bond’s tuxedo. Seeing her confusion, Stane laughed.

“Your father believes we can fight wars with men in tin cans,” Stane said. “Shooting laser beams.”

“Stupid, but brilliant. We could never get his prototypes to work like Tony said they did for R&D,” Howard said.

“They suffered from microscopic systems failures,” Stane said. His voice was almost smug. “The serums are a much better project,” he told Howard.

“Uh-huh,” Howard said. He stabbed another asparagus. No one was talking. Darcy, not a big asparagus fan, felt the need to fill the silence.

“Serums?” she asked Howard.

“We’ve developed--well, a guy named Erskine developed--a stem-cell based serum that can help people heal rapidly after injury and possibly even heal errors at the cellular level. Works on all kinds of things,” Howard said. He picked up his coffee cup. “Unfortunately, Erskine got hit by a car and died, so there have been...delays.”

“It was a great loss to us,” Stane said, sounding untroubled. “Erskine was a good man.”

“I wanted it off the ground a decade ago,” Howard said. “For military use. The media wants to call it a super soldier serum, that’s not accurate. It builds on what’s there and it’s not instant. Steve was one of our subjects, actually. It took him about a year to put on eighty pounds and a foot of height, but it’s remarkably safe. Not like steroids.”

“Steve--your son, Steve?” Darcy said.

“Back when he was a teenager, he participated in a study of ours. He was a volunteer,” Howard said. He inhaled. “Which is how Maria met him. And James, who used to keep him out of trouble in Brooklyn.”

“He used to be a ninety pound asthmatic,” Stane said. “You should see him now. He’s a tree--”

“He’s not just a tree,” Howard grumbled, “he’s a goddamned immoveable tree. He’d be the perfect person to testify before Congress, get us the clearances we need to scale up to the next stage in development.” He ticked off things on his fingers. “Handsome, photogenic, Medal of Honor recipient, healthy--because my projects work. But what does Steve want to do? Move to Brooklyn and be a graphic artist with his boyfriend,” Howard said bitterly. Stane made a sarcastic noise. Darcy stared at them. Howard looked at Darcy. His mouth twitched. “I’m not a homophobe,” Howard said.

“Sure,” Darcy said, making her voice icy. In her peripheral vision, she saw Clint grin.

“Goddammit,” Howard said, putting down his fork. He looked around the table. “You all know I’m not--”

“Perhaps it would be better if we suspended this conversation,” Pepper cut in.

“That seems like a good idea,” Stane said, clearly relishing it.

“I’m just saying, you’d think Steve would want other people to have the opportunities he’s had,” Howard said. “He can run, he can swim, he can _breathe,_ for God’s sake. He could be the poster boy for better lives, but he doesn’t want to--and worse, if the media gets wind of this relationship, they’ll decide this entire family is something out of a VC Andrews novel. Everyone will think we’re sickos. it won’t matter that he and James have been, well, together since before we adopted them, which I told Maria was a mistake--” Howard was saying, when a shadow fell over the table. Darcy looked up. A tall, blonde man was standing in the doorway. He was astonishingly good-looking--and clearly infuriated. Howard paused, then looked embarrassed. “Steve,” he said, “you’re here." His voice had changed tone. "Come sit--” he said, holding his hand out. Steve glared and crossed his arms, stepping into the room, but refusing the chair that Howard patted.

“Which you told Maria was a mistake because you wanted Bucky and I separated,” Steve said. At the end of the table, Stane whistled.

“He’s started it now,” he said, grinning gleefully.

“Steve, you know that’s not true,” Howard said. Clint, Pepper, and Nat were studying their plates, but Darcy was fascinated by the scene in front of her. “I never wanted to end your relationship with James, you know that--”

“Bucky,” Steve said. “His name is Bucky. And don’t pretend you didn’t want me to forget about him, or my mother, or my life in Brooklyn, the minute those test results were promising, Howard,” he said bluntly. His anger was righteous. “We all know how you hate to lose an expensive investment.” He turned on his heel and left the room.

“Well, shit,” Howard said, looking at the doorway. He looked back at Darcy. “We used to have a good relationship,” he said, tossing down his napkin.

“You seem to have had a lot of trouble in your relationships lately,” Clint said. “I wonder why that is?” Darcy saw Natasha nudge him under the table. Howard sighed.

“Thank you, Clint, for that sterling observation. I think I need a drink, Obie. You feel like one?” he said.

“Of course,” Stane said. “Clinton, ladies.” He inclined his head towards Pepper. Both men got to the door before Stane turned back. “I forgot--my congratulations to the bride,” he said, in a kind of parody of chivalry.

“Thank you,” Pepper said, hands rigid on the table. Howard seemed not to notice and kept walking. Once they were gone, Pepper put down her napkin. “I really need to talk to the caterers,” she said, standing up and fleeing the room. Darcy sat for a moment.

“That went better than I thought,” Clint said.

“Stop horrifying Darcy,” Natasha said. “I’ll take you to get the bridesmaids dress.”

“Hold on, I wanna finish my asparagus,” Clint said. 

  
  


They were walking to the island’s boathouse when Darcy saw Steve pacing along the waterline. A dark-haired man was standing with his back to them. He turned, saw them, and smiled sweetly. “Natalya!” he called. When he waved, his metal arm glinted in the sunlight.

“Come meet Bucky,” Natasha said. Clint trailed behind them. Natasha hurried Darcy across the grass, until they stopped in front of the pair. “This is Darcy, Tony’s daughter. I’m taking her to get a dress for the ceremony,” she told him, after a hug.

“Hi,” Darcy said, awestruck by his handsomeness. He took her hand with his non-metal one, cradling it.

“Hello, doll,” he said, aiming that smile at her. It was candy sweet. Darcy couldn’t help it---she laughed. Behind him, Steve’s formerly angry face had gone wry and soft.

“You’ve got another one?” he said dryly. “He’s an incorrigible flirt, Miss, uh--”

“Darce, we’re calling her Darce,” Clint supplied. 

“Darce,” Bucky repeated, smiling.

“Hi,” Darcy repeated. Intelligently. She’d always been articulate around beautiful people.

“You look like your old man,” Bucky said, voice kind. Steve frowned. At Darcy’s expression, Bucky looked back at Steve. “Punk, don’t start,” he said. 

“I didn’t say anything,” Steve said, clearly irritated. “It’s nice to meet you,” he told Darcy. “You do look like Tony.” He sighed. Bucky elbowed him.

“Little man’s got no manners, honey,” Bucky said. 

“But he did get you, so he must have something,” Darcy said, trying to lighten the mood. Clint roared with laughter, Natasha smiled, and Bucky’s expression was humorous.

“She is Tony’s,” Steve said, expression stunned.

* * *

“Is anyone going to explain that all to me?” Darcy asked, as they took a boat into Alexandria Bay. She had to keep her hair from slapping her in the face in the wind. They’d left Bucky and Steve on the shore. Natasha shook her head, hands on the boat’s steering wheel. “Because I’m getting all kinds of subtext,” Darcy said, eyes moving between Natasha and Clint.

“Nat’s trying to be like Switzerland,” Clint said, chomping on an apple. “Stay neutral during the family war.”

“You know I’m not technically neutral,” she replied.

“Steve--because he’s stubborn as a mule, thinks Tony did it,” Clint said. 

“Oh,” Darcy said. She couldn’t help the disappointment. Natasha looked thoughtful.

“Does he?” she said. She glanced at Clint, then Darcy. “He’s scared,” Natasha said. “He thinks that--” she began, then stopped and executed a complicated move with the boat. 

“That people will blame Bucky,” Clint said. He hesitated, then spoke. “Bucky has PTSD and night terrors and can’t remember stuff he does in his sleep. Steve wants to protect him. Also, Tony and Steve argued about Tony’s work. Steve’s trying to get out of the whole thing--”

“The whole thing?” Darcy said.

“The Stark military-industrial complex,” Natasha said dryly, turning the wheel. “They had a disagreement on fundamentals.”

“Steve’s an idealist, Tony wants to build suits and protect the world,” Clint said, spitting out some apple.

“Oh,” Darcy said.

“Yeah,” Clint said. “What did Steve call the suits?”

“Holding a gun to the world’s head and calling it freedom,” Natasha said. “Then Tony called Steve a science experiment,” she said grimly.

“That was a fun Christmas,” Clint said. 

Darcy ordered a dress in the same color and style as Natasha’s. A pale beige called cameo. The fabric sample made her look washed out and the price was a crime, but it would arrive from the city before the wedding. Natasha reassured her that it was going on Howard’s wedding tab. As they left the dress shop, it started to rain. “Looks like a storm’s coming,” Clint said, frowning at distant clouds. They barely made it back to the boathouse before the skies opened in earnest and the rain poured down. Natasha was getting Darcy an umbrella for the walk to the house when Clint froze at one of the windows. “What is it?” she said.

“Boat coming in,” he said. “I thought they were going down the river, but it looks like it’s trying to get here,” he said. They exchanged significant looks. “There’s no room for it to pull in here for cover. I’ll go help,” Clint said, putting on one of the rain slickers hanging on the wall and grabbing a flashlight. “Stay with Darcy,” he said. They watched as Clint yelled instructions and signaled to help the boat pull close enough to the dock in the rain and wind. The current kept pushing the boat out. At some point, Darcy realized Natasha was holding her breath, gaze intense. It took awhile for the boat to pull in close to be lashed to the dock. Clint was joined by someone else in a slicker. 

“Bucky,” Natasha said.

“Oh,” Darcy said. Her aunt’s eyes were glued to the window. Then Darcy saw the figure they helped out of the boat. It took Bucky and Clint to lift the wheelchair and set it down on the docks. The man--or it could be a woman, she thought--was difficult to see. Someone from the boat handed them an umbrella. Then Bucky turned and sprinted towards the boathouse entrance. He opened the door.

“Natalya,” he said. “It’s someone for Howard. He says his name is Col. James Rhodes and it’s something urgent.”

“It’s not--?” Natasha said. Bucky shook his head. 

“We’re going to carry the chair up. Can you call Steve to meet us?” he asked. The boathouse had a telephone. She nodded and he ducked out again. Thunder rolled outside. The storm didn’t look as if it was going away anytime soon. It made the isolation of the island and the dark river water that sloshed in the boathouse more eerie. She stared at the water as Natasha made the call. She was grateful when they could go back to the house. Darcy trailed behind the group as they carried the man up the hill. Steve met them halfway. 

“Be careful, Darce!” he called to her, as he took over for Clint and lifted one side of the chair. The ground was wet and slippery and the wind was strong enough that she felt like she could be blown over. Rhodes’ replies were indistinct, but Darcy could tell he was talking. 

“I’ve got her!” Clint yelled back, waiting for Darcy. She was grateful for Clint’s steadying arm as they tromped back up to the house. Steve was setting down Rhodes carefully when Darcy followed them into the foyer. One of the employees who’d served them at lunch had brought towels.

“Thank you, Maria,” Steve said.

“I’ll get more towels,” she told him quietly. 

“Thanks,” Col. Rhodes repeated. She nodded and turned, going up the stairs. Everyone passed around towels and shed rain slickers.

“Is that Bruce?” Howard called from one of the upper floors. Darcy heard his footsteps on the stairs. Howard was still fit, despite his seven decades. He appeared at the top of the final stairwell. “You aren’t my son,” Howard said. “That I know of.”

“No,” Rhodes said. He cleared his throat. “I tried to get in touch by telephone, but my calls were never returned. I’m here about your son.”

“Oh, yeah?” Howard said, making it to the bottom of the stairwell. He’d slowed down. “Which one?” As Howard paused, Stane came out of another room and looked at them. Rhodes tilted his head up at Howard.

“Tony,” he said seriously. “I’m here about your son, Tony. My name is Colonel James Rhodes. I’m the man who gave him a ride the night your wife was killed. He couldn’t have killed her, because he was with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm basing the house on Boldt Castle on Heart Island. It's fantastic and only accessible by boat: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boldt_Castle
> 
> Chapter title mood music--Lord Huron's "Ghost on the Shore": https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1QthMaFm6-g


	3. When The Night Is Over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing!

“Do you really expect me to believe that?” Howard scoffed, after a moment of freighted silence. “Do you know all the loonies and the tabloid reporters who’ve come out of the woodwork--”

“Howard,” Steve said sharply. 

“Well, where the fuck has he been all this time?” Howard said bluntly.

“It’s a fair question, Steven,” Stane chimed in from the hallway. Darcy heard Clint chuckle bitterly. Natasha was very still, looking at her father. 

“I had an unavoidable meeting with gravity,” Rhodes said, gesturing to his legs. “Flight accident overseas a few days after I picked up Tony. I’d shipped out the next day. Hospitals in Germany didn’t cover New York millionaires, Mr. Stark. I didn’t know until I got back--”

“He tried to get in touch with you,” Steve added. He was frowning, arms crossed.

“All right, fair enough,” Howard said. He looked at some middle distance point, sighing. “I’m going to make some calls--”

“Do you want me to--?” Stane began.

“No,” Howard said. He shut his office door in the other man’s face. Darcy saw Clint grin, but then he quickly looked away.

“Well--” Stane said, turning to them.

“Why don’t we get you some dry clothes and food and a room,” Natasha said to Rhodes smoothly, as if Stane hadn’t spoken. “You’ll have to stay overnight, there’s no return boat in this weather.”

“Good idea,” Clint added. Steve nodded. 

“Thank you,” the colonel said, looking fatigued. 

“I’ll get him some of mine,” Clint said. He moved quickly upstairs and returned, so Rhodes could change in a first floor room with help from Natasha. She waited with Clint in the hallway. Darcy had no idea where everyone else had gone.

“What’s going to happen if my dad has an alibi?” she asked.

“I have no idea,” Clint said.

  
  


Rhodes was eating when Steve came into the dining room with Bucky. “Family meeting,” he said in a clipped voice. Clint and Natasha stood. “Buck’s going to keep the colonel company,” he added. Bucky sat down with a smile--and filched some of the bread out of the bread basket casually, presenting it to Darcy with a sleight of hand trick using his metal arm.

“Magic?” Darcy said.

“Great,” Rhodes said, looking at them curiously.

“I’m very accomplished,” Bucky said cheerfully. Behind him, Steve sighed.

“You come, too,” Natasha told Darcy, obviously seeing her confused expression. She trailed after them hesitantly, wishing she could stay at the table. She wanted to ask Rhodes about Tony. Steve let them into an old-fashioned butler’s pantry in the kitchen. He was standing there with his arms crossed when Darcy shut the door. His blue eyes looked cold.

“Steve,” Clint began.

“I don’t want a fight,” Steve said. “I want to protect that man in there. If he’s Tony’s alibi and Tony’s innocent, Rhodes needs protection. We need to set up a schedule to watch his room--”

“I’m glad you’ve finally come to your senses,” Natasha said. Darcy was still gaping in shock.

“Thank you,” Steve said, with something like an arch tone. He looked wry, then turned serious again. “I’ll take the first watch, Clint can take the first, and Nat the third,” Steve said. “As long as he’s here, one of us needs to be with him, you understand?”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Clint said.

“Can we trust her?” Steve said suddenly and Darcy realized he meant her. “Not to be involved in Maria’s murder?”

“W-what?” Darcy said.

“Yes,” Clint and Natasha said, nodding. 

“You think I would have killed Tony’s mom?” Darcy said, horrified. Steve sighed.

“She doesn’t have it in her,” Clint said.

“Also, she was in New Mexico at the time,” Natasha said.

“You checked on me?” Darcy said.

“She checks on everyone. Nosy, remember?” Clint said. “You learn not to take it personally.”

“I’m going to ask you to help, if you think you can safely,” Steve said to Darcy.

“Of course,” Darcy said. “I’d always help Tony.”

“Good,” Steve said, nodding. He looked relieved.

“Who do you suspect?” Darcy said, almost afraid to voice the question. Steve frowned.

“It’s not Bucky,” he said quickly. “I know that. Even if he doesn’t remember that night--”

“Of course it isn’t,” Natasha said.

“Stane,” Clint said in a quiet voice. He’d explained to Darcy that the entire family and Stane had been in the house at various times during the day Maria was killed.

“Yeah,” Steve said. “Stane’s running Tony’s division now.”

“And Howard,” Natasha said, also quiet. Steve shut his eyes for a moment. Clint looked at the floor. “Am I wrong?” she said to them. 

“No,” Steve said. “You’re not wrong.”

“There are other possibilities,” Darcy said.

“What?” Clint said, eyebrows going up.

“If Tony can get off this island without anybody knowing, then someone can get on this island without anybody knowing,” Darcy said.

“Shit,” Clint said.

“Like someone Stane hired,” Steve said, voice thoughtful.

“Did your mother have enemies?” Darcy said. Steve shook his head.

“Everyone loved her,” Natasha said softly.

“Howard does, though,” Clint said.

“He pisses off everyone,” Steve said. 

“Like--?” Darcy said.

“It’s a long list. He had someone deported to the Soviet Union once,” Clint said. “He brags about that.”

“Anton Vanko,” Natasha explained, “Vanko worked with him. He tried to sell some technology illegally, so Howard turned him in. The entire family was forced back to the Soviet Union.”

“Where they undoubtedly suffered,” Steve said. “For failing to live up to his expectations.”

“Let it go,” Natasha said gently. “You’re happy in Brooklyn, right?” She touched Steve’s arm gently.

“Yeah,” Steve said.

“He can’t let go, he’s an oversized terrier in man clothes,” Clint joked. “Once he gets his teeth in, Steve can’t quit.” Darcy met his eyes. Steve looked at her with a strange expression--half stubborn, half closed off.

“Don’t quit on my dad, then,” she said quietly. With a last look at Steve, she left the pantry to go talk to Rhodes and Bucky. She wanted to ask Rhodes about her father.

* * *

The sedan pulled up in front of a dive bar in the DC suburbs. Two men were sitting outside, drinking beer. The driver rolled down his window and looked out, expression flat. “G’day, Phil,” the taller of the two men said. He had an Australian accent. “How are you going?”

“Get in the car,” Coulson said.

“Me?” the darker-haired man said. He touched his chest, grinning. “Or Jack?”

“Yes, you. Did you not get my text, Rumlow?” Coulson said.

“He ran over his phone,” Jack said. 

“I got a new bike,” Rumlow said. 

“You have a new assignment. Give your keys to Rollins,” Coulson said.

“I want those back,” Rumlow said to the other man, before he got in the car. He ducked in. “I’m not dressed for a new job,” he told Coulson. He was wearing battered jeans, hiking boots, and a t-shirt with the name of his gym.

“You don’t have clothes for this job, period,” Coulson said, handing him a file. 

“Where we going?” Rumlow said, flipping it open. 

“Howard Stark’s private island,” he said. Rumlow whistled. 

“A private island full of his adopted kids, huh?” he said, looking at the photos in the file. “This’ll be fun.”

“You remember his wife’s murder?” Phil said. Rumlow nodded. “Someone alibi’d Tony Stark, we’re going down to interview this guy,” he explained. 

“Why is SHIELD even involved, why not the state police?” Rumlow asked. 

“Stark’s making us equipment,” Phil said. “Important things, Rumlow. Multiple projects.”

“Sure,” Rumlow said. 

“And his daughter is an asset,” Phil added. “Howard doesn’t know. Peggy recruited her.”

“What?” Rumlow said. “Sharon and I went to one of her fucking shows last year. Her and this guy just sat in chairs and stared at each other for four hours,” he said. “She’s an asset?”

“That was an info drop,” Phil said. “Sharon was passing her information on that Balkans case.”

“Seriously?” Rumlow said. “Shit. That woulda made it more exciting to sit through the art shit--” 

“You didn’t catch Sharon leaving the flash drive?” Phil said.

“Nobody catches Sharon,” Rumlow said. He flipped through more of the file. 

“Also, the state police clearly have the wrong suspect. The person who alibi’d him in an Air Force colonel who was in an accident in Germany the week after the murder, missed all the pre-trial stuff,” Phil said. “Impeccable witness, Howard said.”

“If the impeccable witness is so clean, that means it could be a member of the family. So, we’re playing cover our asses on a year-old murder case?” he said. “Because SHIELD has multiple points of compromise?”

“Yes we are,” Phil said.

“What if Howard or Natasha did it?” he asked.

“We arrest them,” Phil said. 

“Ooooh. What if they did it together?” Rumlow said. 

“We arrest them,” Phil said.

“This is some Agatha Christie shit, Phil. An island, full of Richie Rich assholes, accessible only by goddamn boat--”

“That’s why you got the assignment, your experience in remote island locations,” Phil said.

“Really?” Rumlow said, sounding delighted.

“Also, May is visiting her family,” Phil said.

“You just say these things to hurt me,” Rumlow said. “Who’s this?” he asked, holding up a photo.

“Tony Stark’s daughter,” Phil said.

“She’s cute. I didn’t know--”

“No. No touching. Don’t even look,” Phil said. “And she’s young enough to be your daughter.”

“Aren’t you and I the same age?” Rumlow said.

“I’m younger than you,” Phil said.

“When’s your birthday?” Rumlow said. “C’mon, you can tell me.”

  
  


* * *

“He was drunk, yeah,” Rhodes admitted to Darcy, “but he wasn’t angry or shaken or anything like that. No evidence of an altercation,” he said. She’d gone back into the dining room to ask questions. He’d described picking Tony up on the mainland. Tony had told the other man that he’d tied up his small boat at the public marina, but it had never been found.

“What was he wearing?” Bucky asked. Rhodes began describing Tony’s clothing. Darcy watched Bucky’s face carefully. Everything seemed more tense as they listened to Rhodes’s calm voice struggling to remember if Tony’s pants were black or dark blue. Those details might matter later, Darcy thought, with a low, sick feeling in her stomach. “Something wrong, doll?” Bucky asked.

“No,” she said. “Keep going--”

“Let me think about it,” Rhodes said, closing his eyes to concentrate. Darcy looked at his face, then glanced at Bucky. He gave her a gentle smile, then frowned. That was when Darcy heard it. The sounds of a fight in the room across the hallway. Bucky looked up in surprise, then stood. Darcy followed him several feet, then realized she should stay with Rhodes. She paused in the doorway. Howard’s door burst open.

“This is my business,” Howard yelled, stomping out of his office. “My son, my company, my business,” he said to Stane. “Don’t you forget that.”

“You’re going to impact the stock price--”

“Fuck the stock price, Obie,” Howard snapped, “this is my son.”

“Fine,” Stane said, although he didn’t sound fine. He sounded furious. “I’m getting a drink.”

“What’s going on?” Natasha said, coming out of the kitchen with Steve and Clint. 

“Nothing,” Howard said. “I called the lawyers and a friend at SHIELD. We’re going to try and get Tony bail.”

“Oh thank God,” Darcy said. “You’re getting my dad bail?” That was when there was a crash at the other end of the hall. She turned and saw a pale, terrified-looking Pepper staring at the mug she’d dropped on the carpet.

“You broke a mug?” Howard said. “What is that?”

“You’re getting Tony bail?” Pepper said.

“Of course, he’s my son,” Howard said. 

“I’ll go get towels for this,” she said, indicating the spilled beverage. 

“Let the maid do it,” Howard said. He turned and yelled. “Maria! Spill!”

“No, no,” Pepper said. “I’ll go.” It was evident to Darcy that Pepper was shaking. She looked capable of throwing up.

It stormed more that night. They all assembled in the living room. Steve was exchanging military stories with Rhodes; Darcy noticed that Bucky avoided the conversation and Steve didn’t force it. Natasha hid her yawns as Howard talked to Pepper about the business. Clint was on the verge of blowing spitballs at Stane as he snored in a chair. The atmosphere was strangely tense, but also boring. She couldn’t play on her phone, because the island’s wifi was spotty in the bad weather. About thirty minutes into the monotony, Pepper excused herself from the living room and made to go to bed early. “I have a headache,” she said.

“Since when do you have headaches?” Howard said.

“It’s the storm system,” she said back. Her tone was pointed. 

“That can happen,” Bucky said quietly. Pepper looked at him in surprise. 

“Thank you,” she said in a quiet voice before she disappeared down the hallway. Darcy noticed Steve squeezing Bucky’s metal hand gently---and noticed Howard seeing it, too. He was frowning. 

“I’m going to do some work,” Howard announced. “There’s always work. Real work. Obie, wake up,” he added, shaking Stane. Stane roused roughly, then sat up.

“I drifted off,” he said. “Just like Tony’s boat, apparently.” He looked pleased, but Howard frowned as they left the room together.

“Your father and his business partner are real charmers,” Rhodes told Steve. Clint snickered. 

“Someone will be watching your room tonight,” Steve said to him quietly.

“That sounds ominous,” Rhodes said.

“Don’t scare him, Punk,” Bucky said. 

“We just don’t want anyone to try anything,” Steve said. He looked around the room. “Me first, then Clint, and Natasha. But I want everyone to lock their bedroom doors, too. You understand?” he said to Darcy.

“Okay,” she said, not certain of why she’d be under threat.

“He’s overprotective,” Bucky said, but his smile seemed to have dimmed. “And I’ll be locking myself in.” He looked at Darcy, then Rhodes. “I have...nightmares,” he said. “So if you hear screaming, it’s probably just me…”

“Bucky,” Steve scolded.

“Why don’t we all turn in, get this over with?” Rhodes offered. 

“Good idea,” Clint said.

* * *

It was anxiety-inducing to lock yourself into a room. Particularly a strange room with furniture that looked like something out of a French _ancien regime_ horror flick. She had difficulty going to sleep. Darcy tried to read books on her phone, but the spotty WiFi made it difficult to download anything to hold her attention. It was quiet in the house, so she had a lot of time to listen for noises underneath the rain and thunder. Or imagine them. Then the power flickered. “Shit,” Darcy said, then was flooded with relief when the bedside lamp came back on a second later. She got up and crept to window. It was drenched with rain, so it was impossible to really see anything on the grounds. There were no lights, after all. No street lamps. No adjoining houses. Nothing but a few yards of wet, soggy grass and black water. It made her shudder. She contemplated calling Jane, but thought she might sound insane, talking about dark and stormy nights, old houses full of bickering families, and isolation. She went back to bed.

Darcy had just drifted off to sleep when she was awoken by screaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter mood music: Lord Huron's "When The Night Is Over," https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2omnP_gHnsw


End file.
